


Grind That Pole

by rae_aaah



Series: Written for Others [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Lance (Voltron), M/M, Pole Dancing, Top Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2021-01-30 06:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rae_aaah/pseuds/rae_aaah
Summary: When Keith comes home, it’s to a long empty box in the front hall.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Written for Others [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1406800
Kudos: 128





	Grind That Pole

**Author's Note:**

> Another for the wonderful nibielis who gives me all the good stuff to write about ;)

When Keith comes home, it’s to a long empty box in the front hall.

“Lance?” he calls, toeing off his shoes and throwing the keys into the little bowl by the table in the hall. “Are you home?”

“Yeah!” Keith hears from the bedroom. He heads in that direction, index finger already digging into the knot at his throat. He tugs it loose, but leaves it around his neck. “What do you want to eat tonight? I’m feeling pi-” he stops at the threshold of their room, stares at Lance the rest of his words leave him in a slow rush, “pi-pizza. Lance what is this?”

Lance is off to one side of the room. He’s in what Keith likes to call his ‘small pants’, the ones that show of miles and miles of his long legs and Keith’s mouth dries. His shirt is tight, too, and Keith takes in the shape of his muscles under the fabric.

“Happy birthday,” Lance says as he stretches his leg on the bed. Keith’s eyes are riveted to the way his calf muscle tenses and stands out under his caramel skin. 

“My,” he swallows again, this time his tongue drowning in a deluge. “My birthday’s in four months?” 

Lance gestures to the metal pole affixed, floor to ceiling, in their bedroom. “It’ll be the gift that keeps on giving,” Lance tells him with a low grin and a raised brow. He turns his attention back to his leg, the ligament at the apex of his thigh, caving into his groin, standing out as he leans over his knee. “Come sit on the bed,” Lance suggests, and Keith hears the command for what it is. He makes his way over to the short edge of the bed, sits down next to Lance’s foot still propped up on the mattress. “Doesn’t this look fun? Your own private dance,” and Lance is straightening. 

He smells clean but heady, some kind of oatmeal and honey lotion scent coming off of him, and his skin is radiating heat this close.

Lance’s hand strays into his hair, pushes his fringe back, grips at the roots suddenly and pulls Keith’s head backwards with his hold. His throat stretches deliciously and he swallows, the heavy bob of it being followed by the flicker of Lance’s eyes. “Watch me, beautiful,” he says, presses a soft kiss to the rounded crest of his cheek. “Only you.” The arch of his eye. “This is only for you.” The throbbing pulse in his neck.

He slides his fingers free and Keith’s head falls forward at the lost contact. 

Lance’s fingers trail down the side of his face, the line of his throat, works the top button of his shirt free. He presses the pad of his finger to the hollow between Keith’s clavicle, traces his collarbones with a cool touch. He taps his finger to a music playlist and the speakers hooked to his phone wirelessly picks up a soft beat. Lance smiles, hums behind his lips. Starts to sway to the sound.

Backs up a step and wraps his hand around the metal pole. “Watch,” he says and spins around the pole.

Keith swallows again first, only being able to nod that he’ll follow Lance’s lone instruction. He gets a wicked smile in return, Lance taking another twirl around the poll. The music starts to beat and Lance does something with his wrist, something with his ankle, and suddenly, he’s halfway up the pole, his knee and calf gripping onto the metal as he stretches his leg out and leans back. 

His body is suspended almost three off the ground and Keith stares in awe at how his muscles tense and flex as he holds on. 

Lance sits back up, curls his legs around the pole and twirls around on it. Keith is enraptured.

The music beats and traps, a thudding bass and catchy snare.

The blood in Keith’s veins heat to boiling and rises to the surface, just under the skin. He starts to sweat at the throat, under his arms, at the pocket behind his knees under his slacks. Even in-between his toes feel damp and he took of his socks just before. But he does nothing except watch and sweat and let the arousal pool in his cock. 

Lance presses his back to the pole, facing away from Keith. He lifts his arms up, over his head, crosses them at the wrist. The valley of his spine cups around the metal lovingly. Lance looks over his shoulder, the electric blue of his eye peeking over the rise of his cheek. 

Lance drops, his knees spreading wide and the globes of his ass cradle the pole in-between. 

Keith swallows the heavy lump in his throat, hot saliva and his want. Keith grips at the fabric of his pants, sits ramrod straight, goes nearly blind as Lance fucking bends over as he rises, the metal of the pole riding his cleft. Keith inhales through his nose, widens his legs on the bed to ease the pressure of the zipper against his throbbing erection, trapped in his slacks.

But Lance said watch, so watch is what Keith’ll do.

Lance hoists himself up, the muscles in his arms tensing, bunching, lifting his body a foot, then three, over Keith’s head. He tucks his leg and starts spinning, one stretched and pointed and Keith just wants to run his hand over that bronzed skin and worship.

He ascends the pole, his legs stretching out on either side of him and inverts while spinning and Keith just can’t take it anymore-

He stands from the bed abruptly, the head of his trapped cock rubbing against the zipper of his trousers. He ignores it in favor of moving close, getting in-between, catching Lance around the waist to still him as he buries his face into the vee of his thighs and presses his lips to the soft give of his cock.

Lance chuckles, unsurprised, bends his knees over Keith's shoulders and Keith splays his fingers, all ten of them, against the muscular plane of Lance’s lower back. Lance undulates his spine in a wave, momentum and sheer will power pulling him up and he sits up straight, atop Keith’s shoulders, with his hardening cock against his lips.

Keith breathes him in, clean but getting musky, the bulge in front of him growing and twitching. He parts his lips, rubs his open mouth along the shaft and Lance grunts, throws his hands into Keith’s hair. His fingers dig in, tug, and Keith keens behind his lips, almost loses his grip on Lance. Lance chuckles again, shimming against Keith’s shoulders to get re-balanced. He crosses his ankles behind Keith’s back. Lance tugs at the roots again, this time jerking Keith’s head towards the bed and he gladly goes where he’s led. 

He swings Lance around, and leans over, and Lance lets go with his legs, laughing all the way down as he falls. He bounces onto the mattress, knees automatically spreading and Keith descends like a starved man, fingers already curling under the waistband of those sinfully short shorts and sliding them down Lance’s long long legs. The elastic catches at the curved head of Lance’s cock and his erection springs free, Keith catching the tip with his mouth, and Lance throws his head back with a shout. 

Keith pins Lance’s hips down onto the duvet with one arm, the other coming up and yanking at the loosened knot of his tie. It hangs from around his neck and Lance uses it to haul Keith up and kiss him, to press their bodies together from throat to groin and rub incessantly. Keith grunts into Lance’s mouth, fighting their tongues together, biting at Lance’s lips when he loses. Trailing his mouth down his bared throat and sucking dark marks into Lance’s throbbing skin-

Lance’s hands are fisting into his suit jacket, wrinkling it and Keith realizes that he’s still fully dressed save for the top button of his dress shirt undone. He leans up and away onto his knees, bracketing Lance with his thighs. He looks down at the heaving mess of Lance’s body, how his nipples stand up in the cool air of the room, how his belly quivers. Lance reaches out again to pull him back down but Keith smacks his hands away, grabs his arms and uses his tie to bind his wrists together.

“Keith-” Lance pants, already twisting his hands to try and escape, but Keith isn’t having it. 

“You do your stupid dance, in those stupid shorts, and you expect me to just sit and watch?” and Keith’s taking Lance’s hip in his grip, roughly flipping him onto his front, pushing up the hem of his shirt to press his mouth to his shoulders. Lance shudders, ruts against the mattress but Keith knows the angle is too shallow, not enough leverage, and he won’t let Lance do what he wants anymore. He puts his hands to the small of Lance’s back, presses his pelvis into the sheets and traps his cock in-between the sheet and the wiry hair at the apex of his thighs. He cups the globes of Lance’s ass, fingerprints divoting into his skin. Trails his mouth down Lance’s spine, kisses at the heated dip right above his cleft.

Lance’s thighs tremble and Keith smirks against one dimple in Lance’s lower back and moves his mouth lower-

“Keith-!” and his thighs are widening, knees shifting against fabric like silk.

He licks one, long stripe up Lance’s crease and he sighs, tries to get up on his knees, but Keith forces him back down flat. “No,” is all he says and continues to work open Lance’s hole with his mouth. Lance gasps when Keith’s thumbs spread him open and he starts licking in earnest. 

Lance whines into the comforter, legs shuffling against the bed futilely. Keith licks up the tight skin of Lance’s sac, over the smooth stretch of skin right between his thighs and lastly, lightly, over the furled rim of his hole one last time before rising, shuffling up on his knees to pin Lance with his shins to reach over and root around in the bedside table’s drawer for the small bottle of lube there. 

He thumbs aside one cheek, smiles when Lance’s hole twitches around nothing. “Look at this greedy thing,” and depresses his thumb over the cap of the lube to open it. He upends the bottle right over Lance’s hole, making him shine with it, making him sloppy with it He slips his thumb down, presses the pad to the heated skin and lets it rest there for a moment. Lance’s hole flutters, takes in the tip of Keith’s finger- “So messy,” and Keith’s leaning down, setting his teeth into Lance’s shoulder as one finger, then two, start to slide in and out of his body.

Lance moans, presses his face into the mattress, turns it to the side for air, rubs his forehead to the sheet- “Fuck- please!” and his shoulders are struggling with trying to release his hands. 

“You teased me, so now it’s my turn to tease you,” and he stabs deep, scissoring his fingers. 

Keith is hot, sweating under his collar, still in his expensive suit he wore for the board meeting. He couldn’t care less if it gets dirty, and dirty he’ll get it, have Lance come all over it before they’re through, make him take it to the little Korean lady down the street for a dry clean. The heat between them builds, sweat pooling in the valley of Lance’s spine and Keith laps it up, salty and sweet, and his head is reeling with it. 

He moves away from Lance, still sitting on his thighs to trap him, slowly freeing his fingers. He undoes his belt, the metal clinking quietly, undoes the button and zipper and lowers the waistband of his slacks just far enough to clear his cock and balls. Keith slides his erection between Lance’s cheeks, the same way that silver pole did-

Lance moans, his hole clenching and unclenching, his shoulders shifting beautifully under all that caramel skin. “Louder, sweetheart,” Keith says, before pressing the head of his cock to Lance’s hole. He lets the tip rest there, like his thumb did, watches as Lance lifts his hips a little to try and take him in- Keith slaps his supple flesh of his ass- “I said louder,” and Lance moans again, beautifully, a long, drawn out sound in perfect pitch. 

Keith bullies the head of his cock inside, and the moan turns into a drawn out cry. 

The heat alone- 

Keith grunts, pulls out and presses in again, slicking up his cock from the left over lube at Lance’s rim. He slides home, all the way home, and Lance pants harshly out of his mouth as his body stretches to accommodate Keith inside of him. Keith stills, bracing his weight on the bed, kisses the top of Lance’s ear. “Alright, sweetheart?”

Lance nods frantically. 

“Arms okay?”

Another feverish nod. Then, “Just fuck me, already.”

Keith chuckles, leans over to nuzzle at the nape of Lance’s neck. He holds onto Lance’s hip, draws out, teases the stretch of Lance’s hole with just the head and slams back in. Lance cries out and Keith kicks up the pace in fucking him. 

Lance is soft, hot, pliant, so good for him. He struggles against Keith’s weight on him, against his bound arms. Grunts and whines and cries. And Keith fucks him through it all. 

Keith feels it before he knows that it’s happening, the rhythmic flutter of Lance around him. Small, punched out sounds break out from behind Lance’s lips and his whole body seizes. Keith presses both of his hands to the middle of Lance’s back, uses his taut body as leverage, and it’s a wonder that he’s still half-propped up on his knees. 

“Keith, I’m close- fuck-” and yes, the way Lance’s skin heats, turns slick with sweat, how he squirms under him, and the delicious, gripping vice of his hole pushes Keith right next to him at the edge of oblivion. 

“Come on, then,” and Keith is leaning down, spearing so deep. He stills his thrusts, seating himself inside. “Grind on this pole.”

And Lance groans, starts to circle his hips. He squeezes hard, once, twice, and Lance makes a sound like he’s being strung up and whipped- crying, as he comes and comes and comes against the sheets. Keith nudges Lance’s thighs apart and he ends up spread-eagled against the bed, right into his own mess. It only takes a few hurried jerks of his hips and Keith is spilling inside, churning Lance up as he shallowly fucks him. He rests his forehead against the dip between Lance’s shoulder blades, pants against his skin, slowly pulls out. Keith rolls off of him to the side, sweeps his hand down the bunched up muscles of his back and unties his wrists. Lance’s arms come down with a flop and one of them smacks Keith in the stomach. 

He pats around, find’s Keith’s hand and twines their fingers together. 

“So,” he says, voice hoarse. “Good birthday present?” and his eyes are soft, longing. 

Keith lifts their joined hands and kisses the back of Lance’s knuckles, against the red skin of his wrists. He shifts onto his side on the mattress and pushes back Lance’s sweat damp bangs. “Good birthday present.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Funny story, this took me so long (4 months haha real life) that by the time I finished it, Keith's bday was in 2 days.


End file.
